


American Values

by phoenixflight



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Americans, Gay Rights, Glitter, Good old US of A, Humor, M/M, New York City, Post-Movie(s), Pride Parade, fucking fabulous, introducing steve to sexuality will never not be hilarious, omg teh gay!, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka Steve Accidentally Joins the NY Pride Parade.</p><p>He had just meant to go to the grocer’s. They needed eggs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	American Values

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to out of town for Pride in my home city for the third year running. This is my coping mechanism. :) It's a bit early, but happy Pride to everyone!   
> Steve Rogers is my favorite. His life deserves to be this hilarious and ridiculous and glittery all the time. This was inspired by a conversation with a dear friend who introduced me to Captain America, and this is dedicated to her.  
> Unbeta'd.

Steve had just meant to go to the grocer’s. They needed eggs.

Of course, grocery shopping was a little more complicated than it used to be, but Tony’s suggestion that he always take someone with him was ridiculous – he was a grown man, he’d survived the war for heaven’s sake. He could handle New York City. Even at rush hour. And he was getting the hang of all the different options at the grocery store – the secret was in the genius idea of including ingredient labels. Federal food regulations - how had they lived without them?

But that wasn’t the point. Shopping was fine. Even the subway was fine – he was used to machines. The point was the... parade of some kind? Some streets had been cordoned off and the place was just swarming with people, and there were overwhelming colors everywhere and... a surprising amount of nudity? 

There were floats with streamers and glitter, people in tights and make-up and feathers and lots and lots of skin. A woman with her hair dyed like a macaw smiled at him as he carefully kept his eyes above shoulder level. The costumes reminded Steve of the war bond tour, except it was mostly men who were dressed like the chorus girls. He maybe stared a little more than was polite because he honestly couldn’t believe what he was seeing on 5th Avenue in broad daylight. 

And the definition between the audience and the paraders wasn’t as clear as he was used to. There were people running back and forth, blowing kisses to the audience, handing out bits of paper, buttons, stickers, foil squares that looked suspiciously familiar. So when Steve ended up getting shunted out into the street, he didn’t really notice that he was separated from the rest of the crowd, too distracted by the chaos. 

“You look lost, handsome,” said a voice by his shoulder. Steve looked down at a small man wearing a pair of briefs and some sort of glittery body paint. He snapped his eyes back to the man’s face. The man grinned. “You like?” 

Steve felt himself flush. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to interrupt your parade.” 

“Not at all! You should march with us, it was meant to be.” The man grabbed his arm and Steve was startled enough that he allowed himself to be dragged into the flow of people. “I’m Zizi,” he continued. “What’s your name, handsome?” 

“Uh. Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers. Not...” Zizi’s eyes widened. “You are! You so are, oh my god! Come on, I have to tell Ross.” Again, Zizi grabbed his hand, breaking into a run. “He’s marching with the AIDS foundation, they’re not far ahead,” he threw back over his shoulder. The parade moved slowly and it was easy to overtake the marchers, Steve following Zizi as he darted in between people carrying signs and balloons, brightly painted people on bikes, and a float with men and women in... leather... things. Very little leather things. 

“Ross!” A man wearing a pink cowboy hat and matching swim-trunks looked up in time to catch Zizi as he flung himself at him. Around him, a dozen other people in pink were waving and throwing candy to the crowd. “Ross, you will never _believe_ who I just met.” 

“Who?” But the man was already looking up over his shoulder, eyes widening as he caught sight of Steve. 

Zizi beamed. “Ross, this is Steve Rogers. Steve, this is my boyfriend Ross.” 

Steve blinked a little at _boyfriend_. They’d told him that was okay now, but it was still startling to hear so casually. “Pleased to meet you.” 

The man, Ross, disentangled himself from Zizi, still wide eyed. “Mr. Rogers, sir. Thank you. You too sir. I. Wow.” He fumbled his hat off blushing and held out a hand. “This really isn’t how I pictured meeting Captain America.” 

“Ross’s a big fan,” Zizi grinned, hanging off his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“Thanks,” Steve said, shaking his hand, because at least here he was on familiar ground. “It means a lot.” 

“No, thank you, I mean. Man.” Ross shook his head. “So what made you decide to march in the parade.” 

“Oh, uh.” Steve rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was just passing by. I’m actually – what parade is this?” 

“The pride parade,” Zizi chirped. 

“Proud of what?” Steve asked. 

Ross made a face. “Oh boy. Uh. It’s the gay pride parade.”

Steve frowned. “Gay... like, homosexual?” 

“Yeah. Like that,” Ross sounded resigned. “I know this might be weird for you. Not used to this I mean. Uh, it’s ok if you’re uncomfortable.” 

“Aw, Steve’s fine, aren’t you?” Zizi leaned forward and whispered loudly over the noise of the crowd, “He’ll be crushed if his childhood idol turns out to be a conservative homophobe.” 

“Homoph...? Oh. No, no. It’s.” In war, things happened that you never talked about. Some commanders minded, but not Steve. Comfort was where you found it, behind enemy lines. And even before that, well it was no secret even in the forties that some people were Like That, and Steve had always understood what it meant to be an underdog. “It’s just a little overwhelming.”

Ross looked relieved, and Zizi beamed at him. “See?” 

“So all this...” Steve gestured around. “Is because these people are homosexual? Gay?”

“And proud of it!” Zizi exclaimed. “That’s the important part.”

“And it’s ok? It’s not like nobody _did that_ in forties,” he found himself blushing horribly, “And people knew too. But you could be arrested for it. And now here it is, just... out on the street? Just normal?” 

“Basically,” Zizi said, but Ross shook his head. 

“The reason we’re out on the street like this is because it’s still not okay. Not normal. New York’s okay, some places are better than others. It’s legal now in the US, but there are still places where you could get beaten up, even killed for being who you are.” He put an arm around Zizi’s shoulders, squeezing him. “We’re the lucky ones.” 

Zizi petted his boyfriend’s hair. “Ross thinks he should be able to save everyone. I blame you.” 

“Me?” Steve blinked. 

“Hmmm. Too much Captain America as a kid. He wears himself out giving and giving and there’s only so much for one person to give. We can’t all be heroes like you.” 

Steve squared his shoulders. “Yes you can. Maybe not like me, but heroes somehow. I’m glad you’re out here, marching. You should be proud.” 

“Oh, we are.” Zizi linked an arm through his. “So are you going to march with us? Let us show off that the queer freaks got Captain fucking America to march with them?”   
-  
“Steve’s on TV,” said Bruce. 

“So?” Tony didn’t look up from the prototype particle synthesizer he was dismantling. “He went out for groceries right?” It took a moment for his brain to clear away visions of blue prints. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“Like I said, on TV.” 

Tony straightened up. “Is he ok? We’d have had an alert if there was an attack.” 

“...I think you’d better see for yourself.”   
-  
“Why don’t more people have clothes?”

“It’s a rejection of the establishment and an expression of freedom of identity," said Zizi, putting his hands on his skinny hips.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “When we fought to protect free speech, I’m not sure anyone had this in mind.” 

Ross shrugged. “Broad interpretation of the first amendment. We’re pretty big on our freedoms these days.” 

“But.” Steve looked helplessly at the crowd. “There are children here!” 

“And they will grow up to be comfortable with their own bodies and sexualities,” Zizi said sternly. “Censorship is shame.” 

Steve thought about stripping in the barracks, before the serum, about scrawny arms and protruding ribs and the other men sneering behind his back. “Should I... I could take my shirt off?” 

“What kind of question is that anyway?” asked Zizi. “Yes, duh!” 

“Um, that would be, yes,” said Ross, looking a little dazed. “Please.” 

“Okay.” Steve nodded to himself. “Okay.”   
-  
“Should we rescue him?” 

“Are you kidding? JARVIS I hope you’re recording this footage.”   
-  
“You think the glitter is a bit much?” Steve said doubtfully. 

“Absolutely not,” Zizi said firmly, not looking up from where he was smearing blue and red body paint across Steve’s stomach. “You want to move with the times, right?” He stood back to admire his work, walking backward to keep up with the parade. “Do you think he needs some more? Yeah, definitely,” he nodded to himself, putting his fingers back on Steve’s chest, clammy with paint. 

Ross smacked Zizi’s ass, making both him and Steve jump. “You aren’t fooling anyone, Zi. You just want to get your hands back on his abs.”

“They are very touchable, aren’t they?” Zizi sighed happily. “You know you’re just jealous.” 

Ross rolled his eyes, but there was color high on his cheeks. 

Once Zizi had finished painting garish stars and stripes on his abdomen (which took a lot longer than Steve thought it should have, but maybe he understood that. It was like handshakes that went on too long, except more...shirtless) he attracted a lot more attention. He was used to kids coming up to him and tugging on his arms, asking to see his shield, but it was a lot more uncomfortable without cloth between him and them. He kept trying to extricate himself without horribly hurting their feelings, unable to shake the conviction that he was corrupting them somehow.   
And the hugs. It used to be you hugged your parents, and your sweetheart, once you’d started going steady, and you shook hands with strangers. Nowadays everyone wanted a hug. Which made the whole shirtless thing... acute. People, girls especially, would dart forward out of the crowd. “You’re Captain America, right? Ohmigod, can I have a hug?” 

The first time it happened, he’d protested. “I don’t want to get paint on you.” 

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t even. So worth it!” 

Sighing, Steve watched the most recent girl (he thought it was a girl, it was hard to tell what with everyone wearing skirts and glitter and copious makeup) run back to her friends giggling gleefully. He turned around to see Zizi and Ross laughing at him. 

He shrugged, apologetically. “It’s not usually this bad.” 

“You mean usually when you walk down the street shirtless, you _don’t_ get molested?” Zizi asked, arching an eyebrow. “There’s something very wrong with the world.” 

Steve shook his head, grinning a little. “I guess so.” 

Someone with a loudspeaker on a podium was booming names as the marchers pass. “Those are the judges,” Ross said, pointing to the table beside him. “Wells Fargo won last year for best float, but it’s all funding.” 

“Aren’t they a bank?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, there’s all sorts of people who march in the parade. Queer organizations and but lots of allies too. The mayor marches, you know.” 

“Really? That’s...” Steve looked at the man on the podium. “that’s good. Really good. I mean, you’ve come a long way.” 

Ross nodded. “Yeah. It reminds me how lucky I am.” 

“Queens AIDS Research and Support Foundation,” the podium man announced. 

Ross waved at the crowd, tipping his hat. “That’s us, me and my cowokers. Zizi was narching with his experimental performing arts group before he found you.” 

“Experimental performing arts? Sounds dangerous.” 

“Definitely,” Ross laughed. “You know, I didn’t expect Captain America to have a sense of humor.” 

“America’s not a barrel of laughs, huh?” 

“See, that’s what I mean.” 

Before Ross could continue, someone shouted, “Captain America!” 

He veered off course automatically in response, and didn’t register who called his name until camera flashes started going off in his face. Too late, Steve saw the sign hanging on the barrier that said _Press – display badges please_.  
-  
Tony crumpled up the empty bag of popcorn. “Now we rescue him.”   
-  
“What are you doing here Captain?” “How do you like Pride?” “Is this a statement?” “Is that glitter?” “Are the other Avengers here?” “Do you support gay rights?” 

“Of course I do, I...” Steve began, before he was drowned out again by the barrage of questions. 

“Where do you stand on marriage equality?” “What was your reaction to DADT?” “How do you feel about gays in the military?” 

“There have always been gay people in the military,” Steve said, latching on to something he was sure of. 

“Are you insinuating something?” “Is there something you want to tell us Captain?” 

Steve glanced around, confused, and then Zizi shouldered his way forward, putting his skinny, glittery bare body between Steve and the bulk of reporters. “He’s Captain America, okay?” he snarled. “That’s all there is to it. Being fucking fabulous is an American value.” Flashbulbs popped. 

“The kid’s right,” drawled a voice from behind them. Steve turned to see Tony, sleeves rolled up and suit jacket slung over one shoulder. “A value I aspire to but rarely achieve. Nice hat,” he nodded to Ross. “Alright everyone, feeding frenzy’s over. The Avenger’s Initiative supports and protects every American regardless of class, color, creed, gender or sexuality. Unless your creed involves aliens invading New York or anything like that.” There was laughter from the crowd. “Some people huh? Post a picture of yourself at Pride to Stark Industries’ Facebook page by midnight tonight and receive a thirty percent discount on the latest upgrade to the Starkphone operating system.” He slapped Steve on the shoulder, and slipped a business card out of his pocket, handing it to Zizi. “If you ever need a job, contact my PR department. Let’s go Cap. Happy is parked illegally on Madison Avenue, and I’ve already enraged NYPD plenty this month.” 

Steve waved as Tony dragged him away through the crowd. “It was nice meeting you!” he called to Zizi and Ross. 

“Come back next year!” Ross had his arms around Zizi’s waist. 

“I will!” Steve promised. “I’ll even wear the uniform.” 

He thought he heard Zizi shout, “Don’t bother,” and then they were swallowed by the colorful crowd. 

Steve didn’t actually make it to the parade the next year, thanks to someone’s escaped lab experiment, which was roaming the sewers breathing fire. But when the combusting rodents were massacred, with minimal destruction of property (advantage of fighting below ground) and cleanup began, Steve took his shirt off. Sure, it was covered in rodent guts and dried sewer gunk, but it was still solidarity. Zizi would totally have appreciated the gesture.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, Steve is hard to write. He's snarky and sincere at the same time. o.O   
> Feedback is love, let me know how I did!


End file.
